Pages

Tuesday, 17 August 2010

A chase scene. Which doesn't really convey itself well in the written medium...

Image by Mαciomhαir via Flickr The car mounted the kerb, sending onlookers diving for safety, and oranges to fly everywhere. Accelerating, it began to close the distance, coming dangerously close to use. The passenger door opened, the occupant swinging out onto the running board. His fedora caught the wind, blowing away and landing on a donkey at a rakish angle, but the passenger didn't notice. Pulling out a Tommy Gun (the kind with a drum like in the films, not the more practical clip), he opened fire.
"Ha! Sergi know their kind! Sergie vowed never to go on another treasure hunt, he know this happen."
As he spoke, Sergi pulled out a handgun and returned fire. I was confused - despite an obvious accent, Sergi had spoken perfect English until now, and had not once referred to himself in the third person. The Red Baron, hunched over the wheel, moustache emerging from huge flying goggles, drove the car from side to side. I hoped he was taking evasive action, dodging the stream of bullets and pedestrians by design not luck. I'd offered to drive, but because I looked very old, it was decided I would be too slow and not change gears. This had made sense to me, but razed further questions as to why the Baron was driving. Adventurer Ed had pulled a pair of revolvers from his pocket, and was leaning his whole upper body out of the window, returning fire. Frankly, I doubted a man this reckless would make a good adventurer. I wished I'd recruited a Librarian instead.
Wizard Ed, without a pinball machine, had few transferable skills, so was pulling faces at our pursuers. I'd already decided not to pay him, even though no-one was getting paid for this trip anyway. Maybe I'd pay everyone else anyway, in front of him.
I, being elderly, was also doing little to help. A packet of boiled sweets in my pocket provided some projectile defense, but so far, had done little to deter our anonymous enemies.
Suddenly, we span 'round a corner. Burning rubber, the Baron put the pedal to the metal, sending us flying down a side street. Behind us, our enemies crashed dramatically into a firework stand. In a film, this scene would be spectacular, with bright, colourful explosions and so on. However, writing is a much more sombre medium, so I'll simply point out the explosion killed three innocent bystanders, and destroyed the livelihood of the stall owner.
Bowing our heads in sympathy, we arrived at the runway. Well, we actually crashed into a fence near it - bowing your head while driving is ill-advised.
Gathering our things, we fled the car for the Red Baron's plane. As we neared it, my heart sunk. I've never seen so much duct tape in one place before. However, shouting and gunfire in the distance warned us that our unknown enemies were still closing in on us, so we reluctantly entered the plane.